


Sleep

by ALilyPea (alilypea)



Series: Melt With You [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Sam Wilson, Gen, M/M, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilypea/pseuds/ALilyPea
Summary: It's entirely possible that Steve Rogers hasn't really had a good night's sleep since 1939. It's definite that Sam Wilson is sick of this, and worried sick.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ibonekoen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibonekoen/gifts).



> This is a prequel of sorts to my fic [I'll Stop the World and Melt With You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011056), which will likely be part of a series. 
> 
> This is not yet beta'd, just looked over by Grammarly, so please be kind.

”You can't keep doing this to yourself,” Sam told him, a short distance between them from where they both sat on the edge of two hotel beds facing inward, their knees a short distance apart. 

Steve kept his eyes on Sam's hands as the other man spoke. They were darker than his, obviously, but the big difference he saw was in the scarring along Sam's palms. From, from when he'd thoughtlessly and mindlessly grabbed a knife aimed at Steve, saving his life. There were calluses on his fingertips too, from maintaining his wings. There was a small bump on his middle finger, just to the side of his nail, a testament to how much he hand wrote, despite modern conveniences.

Steve's hands would remain unblemished until the day he died. They would never betray the life he'd lived as an actual starving artist before the war or the life he’d lived as a soldier and warrior during and after.

”How long has it been since you've slept?” And there it is, impatience and full-blown worry cutting a sliver through Sam’s counsellor voice.

“1939 or about then,” Steve’s as surprised at his answer as Sam is. He avoided Sam’s gaze to glance down at his own hands, tanned and smooth. He should’ve held on a little harder, as hard as he could. He should’ve reached a little farther. 

What good was all this if it kept losing him Bucky?

“Steve,” Sam began, voice strained then paused as if unsure what to say.

Steve shifted on the bed and clenched his hands together as he thought back to 1939. 

 

_  
“Shh, Stevie you’ll be okay,” Bucky’s voice was rough with the lack of sleep and the force of his prayers, as good as they were doing them. “You’ll make it through; you’ve got to.”_

_Steve could hear the unshed tears in his voice, the plea that was there._

_“S-Sure, Bucky,” He’d grinned, teeth bloodstained from coughing, his throat torn open from it. “I’m gonna make it, just like last time.”_

_This time was worse, and they both knew it._

_“Fuck, Rogers, you’re an unholy mess, what would the Sisters think if they saw you like this?” Bucky asked, shoving Steve’s hair off his forehead and resting his hand there._

_“So lazy,” Steve responded, feeling almost drunk as he swooned into the touch. Bucky was always so warm. “Just lyin’ around but still up to no good.”_

_“Damn right,” Bucky told him. “And still hangin’ around with that no good Jewish boy.”_

_“Bein’ Jewish was the least of their worries when it came to you, ya jerk,” Steve retorted, shivering almost violently._

_“Shove over,” Bucky told him, even as he did most of the shoving._

_Steve rolled onto his side, away from Bucky and could’ve moaned when his best friend slid in behind him. He was always so damn warm it was like hugging a furnace, or in this case, being embraced by one._

_“You should learn to ask, punk, if you’re so damn cold, don’t gotta mean anything,” Bucky grumbled even as he wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and pressed a hand to his chest, just over his heart._

_Steve closed his eyes, drifting toward sleep._

_“There ya go, rest up,” Bucky muttered, his voice so far away._

Steve glanced at Sam, then away as the memory faded. “I sleep better when I’m not alone,” he mumbled, sure his cheeks were flushed.

“Like someone sleeping with you?” Sam clarified. 

Steve jerked his head in a nod.

“I’m not straight,” Sam responded, as though that would matter. It didn’t, at least not in the way he likely anticipated. 

“Neither am I,” Steve replied, rubbing his hands on his knees. 

“You were flirting with me,” Sam realized, eyes wide.

Steve stifled a grin and nodded. “I’d noticed you a few times; you seemed...fun.” He offered the words, but the truth was there was a strength to Sam he’d been drawn to, from the beginning.

“Fun? That’s the best you got?” Sam laughed. 

“Yeah, tons of fun. Not at all like a person who would become a royal pain in my ass,” Steve rolled his eyes and dug in his bag.

“I’m not even sure how to respond to that,” Sam groaned theatrically. “I either sound like an ass or a pervert.”

“You are both of those things,” Steve confirmed as he stripped off his shirt, aware of Sam’s eyes on him. He replaced it with a tank, tugging it down his body. 

“Hey,” Sam chuckled. “I resemble that remark.”

“Yeah, you do,” Steve turned back around and shot him a small smile.

“What does that say about you then?” Sam asked him, as he leaned back on his hands and arched an eyebrow.

“That I’m attracted to idiots,” Steve blushed, sure Sam would mock him for that. Him and Nat both.

“So am I, whaddya know?” Sam grinned back at him. “But we’ll table that for the oh-so-awkward morning after so I can watch you blush in the light of the glorious daytime.”

Steve nodded and stopped next to Sam and his bed.

“Big spoon or little?” Sam asked then, voice and face both lacking judgments.

“Little,” Steve responded, confident his face was as red as a firetruck. 

“Alright, you get in,” Sam ordered as he got up to change.

Steve slid under the covers and rolled onto his side so he could face the door, effectively putting himself between it and Sam.

After a few moments of tensely waiting the light went out, the sheets rustled as Sam got in and pushed himself closer. 

Steve relaxed slowly as he felt Sam slot in behind him, knees pressed against the back of his, chest against his back. Sam breathed in slow, and Steve mimicked it, his eyes sliding shut as Sam’s arm draped over his waist, tugging him in close.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything you know?” Sam murmured into his ear; his head rested on the edge of the same pillow Steve used. 

“It means everything,” Steve muttered in response as his eyes grew heavy and he drifted into sleep. 

Everything was loud for a few minutes. The AC unit rattled, he could feel and hear Sam’s breathing as well as the noise of people on other floors. 

And then it was quiet, the blanket of sleep comforting him as much as Sam’s body did.

It was nice to know someone still had his back.


	2. There has to be a Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's morning after with Steve doesn't quite go as planned. And damn, do all super soldiers have dumbass ideas or is it just these two?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess this fic has a second chapter now.
> 
> Please be kind. 
> 
> Rewind if you don't like it. 
> 
> Thank you [ibonekoen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibonekoen/pseuds/ibonekoen) for looking this over for me.

The awkward morning after doesn’t really come. Or at least not in the way that either of them are quite expecting.

Hard-ons due to a good night’s sleep; still being young virile and not-straight men sleeping close to each other? Extremely likely.

Opening your eyes to discover a 200 and some odd pound super soldier/assassin watching you from the other bed while he eats a buttery croissant (and doesn’t crumb on himself)? Well, that’s a justifiable reason for any man to yelp, jump out of bed and dive for the nearest weapon.

“Bucky,” Steve stood between Sam and his old friend, turned with a palm outstretched as though to keep them from fighting.

“I think so,” came the rusty dis-used voice from Barnes.

“What is my life?” Sam asked in general as the two former enemies/friends/lovers hugged it out in the middle of a shitty motel room in Little Rock.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sorry about before,” Bucky apologized as they both sat in the car waiting for Steve to come out of the gas station.

“Which before?” Sam asked a few moments later after the silence between them had stretched on for a little too long.

“The steering wheel, the wings,” Bucky mimicked, flapping both hands lightly, a distressed look on his face.

“Not the creepy morning wake up call?” Sam turned to look out the window, checking again to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“You were both vulnerable,” Bucky replied, eyes on the world outside the window as well. “I wanted to make sure that you were taking care of him properly.”

“And was I?” Sam can’t even believe that the question left his lips.

“Not a bad job,” Bucky replied as he shrugged one shoulder.

“Oh, high praise,” Sam snarked as he rolled his eyes.

“Took you long enough to realize he wasn’t sleeping,” Bucky grumbled as he glanced in the rearview mirror.

Sam met his gaze and took a moment to study him. “You look tired.”

Barnes did, looking almost haggard under oddly well-brushed hair. The bags under his eyes could’ve doubled as luggage and make him look like he’d gone a few rounds with a heavyweight.

He had the same haunted look that Sam had seen far too many times in his group, and if he was honest, himself.

“Happens when you’ve been on the run,” Bucky responded, sucking his cheeks in lightly as he nibbled on his bottom lip.

Goddamn, if Sam didn’t want to just stuff this poor depression-era boy full of every one of his mother’s pie recipes.

“You can rest now,” Sam offered as he glanced away. “Steve and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You mean Steve won’t,” Bucky corrected as he turned again to watch through the window as Steve waited in line.

“Nah, I mean we won’t,” Sam responded, voice firm. It was a promise. “You’ve been through enough, Barnes.”

Bucky looked at him, lips parted in shock.

The driver’s side door opened and Steve tossed a bag into Sam’s lap before he folded himself into the vehicle.

“New York or Hydra base?” He asked as he turned the key in the ignition and glanced between the two of them.

“Hydra base.” “New York.”

“Hell no,” Sam shook his head. “This is not some stupid ass, angst-ridden, bullet and knife injury-filled revenge road trip.”

Steve pulled the car out of the lot. “You don’t have to come with us.”

“That might be the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say, Steve Rogers, and I’ve heard some stupid shit come out of your mouth,” Sam glared at him. “You are not doing this on your own.”

“I won’t be alone,” Steve replied.

“You’re also not dragging a POW into a revenge road trip,” Sam declared. “At least not yet, you both need more than the next mission. So we’re going to New York to regroup and plan, and feed Barnes, instead of going off half-cocked.”

Steve thought for a moment, then conceded with a nod. “You’re right,” he huffed out a sigh. “We need to go somewhere safe.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna suggest my mama’s house,” Sam replied before he turned in his seat to look at Bucky. “It’s your choice though; I understand you haven’t been given a lot of those.”

Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded his head. “Kinda sick of running, but not sure I’d be welcome anywhere the Avengers are.”

“Why not?” Sam asked, then held up a hand. “You don’t need to answer.”

Bucky jerked his head in a vague nod. “I think…Howard Stark.”

Sam paused, then breathed in slowly. “Okay, we’ll see what we can find out and make our decisions based on that. Steve can talk to Stark.”

Steve’s grip eased on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t you.”

Bucky didn’t answer, and Sam wasn’t sure what to say, even though he agreed. He turned around fully and flipped on the radio though he kept the volume low.

He needed to think, and he couldn’t do it with the world’s most awkward silence hanging over them. Besides, it was about time these two got a musical education. 

 


	3. Time for Some Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark lets them stay, and Bucky, Steve and Sam finally find a place to rest their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to [Luke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibonekoen/pseuds/ibonekoen) for looking this over for me. He is an amazing writer so check out his stuff.
> 
> This is the last chapter of this fic, but not the last story in this saga.
> 
> Please comment, and be kind if you have a moment.

Sam never could’ve imagined that he would’ve rolled up to the entrance of the Avengers Tower garage in a lemon. Or any car, really.

Steve leaned out the window to key in the code and complete the biometric scans, radio turned down.

Bucky remained where he was, tensed in the backseat.

Stark knew the truth, had figured it out himself going through the released Hydra data. He’d said it wasn’t something he would hold against Barnes, but who knew if that was the truth.

“Remember what I said,” Sam told Bucky before he climbed out of the now parked car.

Tony Stark seemed both larger and smaller in person, Sam assessed the man waiting for them, and slightly twitchy.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve’s voice was soft as he greeted his teammate and friend.

“Rogers,” Tony responded as he shook Steve’s hand, his face betrayed nothing. “Introduce me to your friends.”

“Sam Wilson,” he introduced himself, hand held out for a firm shake. “This is – “

“Mr. Stark, I’m…” Bucky swallowed, eyes a little wild as he seemed to choke on whatever it was he wanted to say.

“Sorry?” Tony asked as he arched an eyebrow.

Bucky nodded, and if Sam was honest he didn’t think he’d ever seen someone who looked more miserable.

“Forgiveness has never come easy to me,” Tony told them, eyes sharp and assessing. “Anger though, it’s a brand for Stark men, easier than almost anything. If I hadn’t known before now that you killed my parents I would probably have torn you apart where you stand.”

Sam watched them, watched Steve tense and Bucky relax in the same moment and wondered not for the first time what he’d gotten himself into.

“I’d understand,” Bucky replied. “Steve wouldn’t, Wilson may or may not. I would.” His face was blank as he waited.

Tony smiled then, the expression wicked. “You are a weapon, Barnes, a dangerous one. However, it’s been my understanding you’ve always been most perilous where Steve is involved, and in trouble.”

Bucky inclined his head in a nod.

“Then we won’t have a problem,” Tony told him.

“What? But I-.”

“You were taken prisoner by literal Nazis, altered against your will and forced into doing something that hurt other people?” Tony summarized then waved a hand. “None of us have any experience with that,” his tone was dry.

“You..” Bucky looked stumped.

Sam felt like he had whiplash and he was exhausted. “So we can stay?”

Tony looked over at him and smirked. “The jury’s still out on Barnes, but you I like. You can all stay, but right now I’m only making toys for Wilson because I’ve never had to fish his gear out of the Potomac.”

Sam chuckled as he took Tony’s lead and followed him toward the elevator.

“That was extenuating circumstances,” Steve protested as he grabbed the bags out of the trunk.

Barnes. Bucky…James caught up with them, stepping into the elevator he kept away, standing in the opposite corner, his eyes focused on the doors.

“I’m so tempted to make him take the stairs,” Tony told them, voice full of good humour.

“Do it,” its Bucky who said it not Sam, and he’s not sure which of them is more surprised by it.

“Sorry, Steve,” Tony called as he pressed the button for whichever floor they were headed to and the doors began to slide shut.

Steve looked up and cursed, “You assholes!”

Sam laughed as he leaned against the wall he held his hand over his stomach. It wasn’t  _ that _ funny he knew, but it had been so long since the mood had been light enough to laugh.

“Welcome to the future, boys, just a warning it’s so bright you’re gonna need shades,” Tony warned them and grinned as the elevator rose. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable link on [Tumblr](https://alilypea.tumblr.com/post/181536680900/fic-sleep-pre-samsteve)


End file.
